I hear there’s magic to be found.
In the space between… between…. between what exactly?
I’m not sure.
Between what was and what is to come?
Between where I was and where I will go?
Between who I was and who I will be?

What does it matter anyway? For me, there is no space.
No space to hold my fiery heart.
No space to hold my curious mind.
No space to rest, no space to dream.
No space for what is unfolding, who I am becoming or where I am headed.
No space at all.

Settled in its place is a jumbled mess.
What is this mess you ask?
I wish I knew but I don’t.
Still I imagine it’s made up of many things.

Goals too lofty to achieve
Grief too enormous to bear
Longings too improper to consider
Wishes too risky to amuse
Or so they said – and I believed them.

Now, I stand in the space between – no that’s not quite right.
I stand amidst the mess, stuck between…. between… between what exactly?
I’m not sure.
Between what I wish had been and what I dare not hope will be?
Between where they warned me not to go and where my feet might never tread?
Between who I buried beneath the masks and who I fear I will never uncover?

Who cares? It makes no difference after all.
Or does it? Maybe, just maybe it does.
And if it does, then I must do what I must.
Not what I should – but what I must.
And maybe, just maybe, must is where my magic dwells.
If only I knew what that was!

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